I have not done a book review or promotion of any sort before, but this one was worth waiting for…

A Year of Sex by Mia Martina is a fascinating and hot read. I was blown away by her raw and adventurous willingness to explore not only her own sexual appetite, but her journey of self discovery. In the aftermath of a break up, it is very relatible for all of us. However, how many of us can say we actually did all the things we thought about doing. This book is well worth reading, and you can find it here:

http://ayearofsex.com

Learn more about Mia and her adventures on her website at:

I am going to warn you, this is not for the faint of heart; I think I blushed upon reading a few of these chapters. But I admire her spirit and her willingness to experiment and push her own boundaries. The book is available in paperback and for your ereader….Check it out!!!!

Darren

Rat Bastards…..

How is this for ridiculous logic, or shoud I say lack of logic. I received a letter from B&N small press department in regards to my submitting both my first and second book for review. In case you did not read the previous post about Book One getting approved as a fiction book, I resubmitted both to try and get them reviewed by the Erotica/Sexuality buyer for approval into this section of the store.

Here was the answer:

“Your books are considered erotica, which fall under the fiction category. The Fiction buyer stated that due to the lack of sales we will not be carrying this title in either section.”

No fucking shit lady…….I resubmitted it to get the book into the correct section of the store so IT WOULD SELL BETTER! Dumbasses. The book does not belong on the shelves next to Tom Clancy and Stephanie Meyer’s books, it belongs amongst the trashy stuff like “Thanking the Receptionist” and “Slow Ride”. I am well aware of what the book offers; it is not a literary classic, I get it. But I wanted it to get a fair shot to stand next to the other books like it, and I was denied. I am pissed.

This has to be the most ridiculous set of logic I have heard in quite a while. Now I realize that I am a whole lot more sensitive to this becasue it is my book and I wanted to accomplish this goal of having my books on the shelves, but come on, seriously?!?!?!?!

So I think in protest I am about to purchase a KINDLE, and download all my books through AMAZON from now on.

Take that B&N!

So let me get this straight, you stupid fucking whore…you are complaining that you have too many cameras in your life? You, Kim Kardashian, the one who:

–”leaked” a sex tape to become famous.
–Had her own Mother oversee the sale and distribution deal for the above mentioned
sex tape.
–Is famous for no other reason than lying on her back and sticking her ample ass in
the air for her boyfriend and the world to see.
–created a TV show about how fabulous her and the family’s life is, so fabulous that
everyone should watch her daily lives.
–Spawned several spin-off TV shows for her even more worthless sisters (I wonder if
Lamar Odom wakes up at night wondering what the hell he got himself into…)
–gets paid $10K just to tweet about a product or service.
–Sold the rights to her wedding exclusively to TMZ for over $15 million dollars
–Contributed the majority of her family’s $65 million in earnings in 2010
–Married Kris Humphries after less than 6 months of dating
—-was married for 72 DAYS (that’s right, Dennis Rodman and Carmen Electra were
married twice that long!)http://www.thehollywoodgossip.com/2011/10/kim-kardashian-on-her-marriage-not-ideal/

I just wanted to clarify all that before I re-asked that question, because it makes you look like a complete and total idiot. If you sell your soul for money, you have to deal with the consequences…that is the trade off. On alot of levels your family is no more dysfunctional than most, with the exception of the famed sex tape and the profiteering of that and everything else since. Get over yourself. Fuck you, you stupid fucking bitch…

And for those of you out there who do give a shit what the Kardashians are up to…get a life of your own, for God sake. This vapid succubus of a person is not worth your idolization.

I think this sums it up, at least from his side of things:

“How am I going to have my career and live in Minnesota?” Kardashian gripes to Humphries in a scene from a preview clip of her E! show Kourtney and Kim Take New York.

“Baby,” Humphries snaps back, “by the time you have kids and they’re in school, no one will care about you.”

Hahahahaha….well played. I can’t wait until you are no more than a featured person on “Where are they now?” show in the future. I hope you are living with your two sisters in a two bedroom apartment, working at Target as a night time stocker by then. Life on the other side would do you a world of good in terms of perspective.

whew…thanks, I feel better now.

Who would have guessed that Mexico would be so progressive???

http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2011/sep/30/mexico-city-fixed-term-marriages

Fixed term marriages, two year contracts, the end is already set…What a concept! Here is the one thing they need to add to make this perfect….NO CHILDREN IN THE FIRST TWO YEAR TEST PERIOD. If you pass the two year test, then you can consider having children, but only if you are financially stable, reasonably intelligent, decent, caring human being and you are both on the same page.

I think this might be a great idea, especially if you talk to any of my married friends. That ring slides on and all of the sudden we get lazy. Men and women both are guilty of it; weight gain, no romance, general disregard for the feelings of the person you were once so in love with, sex life on ice. Suddenly we are tired all the time, fight about who’s turn it is to do the dishes, etc, etc, etc. I know so few married people who are happy with their lives it makes me wonder why anyone does it.

And I realze that most people cannot or do not want to go through life alone. Someone recently asked me “Do you want to grow old alone?” I laughed out loud. Do you mean to I want to give up a lifetime of do what I want, when I want, and who I want for a lifetime of marginally happy years being married in hopes that if in fact I die in a hospital bed that I will have someone to sit by the bed and hold my hand? I don’t think so. Now granted, I may be way off base about this, and I may change my mind in the future, but the way things stand now, I am doing just fine. I hate David Spade, but his character in the TV show “Rules of Engagement” defined it perfectly. He walks into a cafe were two of his couples friends are sitting having lunch together. He joins them briefly, and the women start in on him about getting into a relationship instead of dating younger girls all the time. The men are forced to agree with the women since they are all sitting there together, but secretly yearn for his life. When he stands to leave, the one guy asks “What are you doing now?” His response: “Whatever the Hell I want, when I want.”

I don’t want to make it sound like I am only picking on the ladies here, men are just as guilty. Men marry hoping things will stay exactly the way they are, women marry hoping to mold us into the guy the have always wanted. It is very difficult for two people to grow and mature together. Its the main reason I am so against marriage at a young age: you don’t have a fricken clue who you are, where you are headed, and what you want. How on Earth can you think that your partner is going to be able to make you happy if you can’t do that yourself. Be your own complete, fully realized individual first, then think about partnering up with someone.

So to bring this full circle, I think the two year contract thing is a good idea. It will keep everyone on their toes. It makes you accountable for your actions, which most of us have a difficult time with. Sports teams do this all the time, why not bring this concept to one of the most difficult sports out there: Marriage

If you’ve read some of the other stuff I have posted on this blog, you well know that I have a HUGE distaste for DOUCHEBAGGERY. If there is one downside to living where I do, it would have to be the abundance of Jersey Shore watching, spiky haired fucking morons wearing their sunglasses indoors, driving the cliche Lexus and living in the two bedroom apartment with three other guys in Oldtown Scottsdale just to be “on the scene” at all times. Go to The Dirty or 944.com and you can see scores of them; dying to be a local celebrity, be famous for merely existing, and have people give a shit what they are up to today. Close your twitter account and your facebook page, no one cares that you are going a load of whites and then headed to grub. Take this dickhead:

Stop acting you are the only one walking the Earth, that we should all step aside as you walk through, and for God sake’s quit hogging up all the fucking parking!!!! Asshole.

Thanks, I feel better now…….

My life is inundated with beautiful women; its just a reality of living in Phoenix. Everywhere you go, there they are. It is easy to take for granted until you go elsewhere for a little bit. But once in a while someone really catches your attention, and the moment is magical. Time stands still and the surrounding world disappears as you focus in on her as she walks towards you…

A huge smile comes over her face as soon as she sees me, and I stand to meet her. The form-fitting skirt clings to her delicious curves, heels accentuate her walk. She moves with grace and confidence; it adds to her appeal. Her hypnotic eyes are entracing. She greets me with open arms, literally. I feel it in her hug, she likes me. Or maybe she just hugs everyone like that, I can never tell. We walk into the coffee shop and I order for her, remembering what she drinks even after all this time. She smiles, noticing I remember. I smile at her smile.

We sit and chat, catching up after quite some time. I fidget at first, slightly nervous even though I pretend not to be. Maybe she does too, and just hides it better than I. As the moments pass I lose interest in anything else around me. I focus on her, listening intently, watching her eyes light up as she speaks. Watching her reactions as I joke with her, question her, challenge her. They never dim, she rarely backpeddles. I find myself talking too much once again, automatically filling the gaps in conversation with white noise. Or maybe she finds it charming, I can never tell.

Ninety minutes pass in a blink. She looks at her phone, realizing the time. She has to leave, and my heart sinks just a little. I walk her to her car, anticipating one more brief moment of heaven as she presses her firm body against mine in a departing hug. A catch a whiff of her perfume; it is light and soft…perfect. I turn and walk away, not really wanting to see her go. I get into the car to leave, and this song is on the radio:

“When you walked into the room, there was voodoo in the vibes. I was captured by your style, but I could not catch your eye. Now I stand here helplessly, hoping you get into me. I am so into you I can’t get to nothing else…..”
Atlanta Rhythm Section

A perfect synchronicity; its what makes the little things in life so impactful some times. I do my best to not let moments like this pass without notice. Life is fleeting; drink in the moments, savor them like a fine wine. Let it breathe, marinate in your brain. It’s okay to dwell on the good things.

It took me a little while to figure out how I got so far off track with my pursuit of making my book project world famous, until I remembered that incident at Changing Hands bookstore in Phoenix. If you read my post about the Chelsea Handler adventure, then you may have pinpointed this before I did. To quote one of the store employees when I inquired about meeting Chelsea “Oh, I wouldn’t if I were you. She’s not acting, she really is that much of a bitch” And if you’ve read her most recent book, you probably draw the same conclusions yourself….

After the flurry of activity I had going, culminating with the Chelsea Handler visit to my home town and my efforts to get in front of her, I guess some sort of a let down was inevitable. But the hangover has lasted too long, and I finally figured out that this particular incident knocked the proverbial wind out of me. Now, it has ground to a halt, and I finally realized it just the other day. So, I am doing something about it.

I am meeting with a “Grammar Doctor” to review my books and possibly clean them up just a tad, adding the finishing polish that they need to reach the next level. I am bugging Barnes & Noble about getting Volume 1 on the shelves again. (as a side bar, I keep going to the stores here in town and taking the books out of the fiction section and putting them in the display section under sexuality. It’s an ongoing battle until I get the book recategorized in their internal system. I’m sure the staff has my photo hanging in the break room with a warning sign under it by now) Anyway, I am trying to write more lately, and am re-reading Steven Pressfield’s “The War of Art” to help fight resistance and procrastination.

So the next big things on the list are another “phoner” to Playboy Radio and then Howard Stern. Having already been on Playboy Radio, that one shouldn’t be too hard. Howard Stern might be another story, but I will figure something out, hopefully.

Now my goal is to get famous and TURN DOWN THE INVITE TO CHELSEA HANDLER’S SHOW. Suck on that!!!!!

OK, I am going to give this a shot in a different way. My book has been available on Kindle for a while now, but I had an idea to increase the exposure of my book. I spent several hours in my favorite Starbucks today uploading two story excerpts for a .99 download. I am hoping giving people a taste for a very inexpensive price will increase the number of people who see and dwonload the stories.

I also am going to work on the audiobook version of my stories, but in a slightly different format. I am going to read them in the first person from my point of view, and have a woman read the “her eyes” version in the first person voice also. I think this will be a better version and more applicable to listening to someone read you the story.

Yes, the rumors of my demise have been highly exaggerated…I’m back in action…….

I loved that show. Seinfeld managed to address every social interaction situation know to mankind, and this was always one of my favorites. George Costanza arguing with a woman that it was not her fault that they were breaking up, it was his….classic

Oddly enough, it seems my life has sort of followed suit for the past decade or so. I think a better quote would be from one of my many favorite cheesy 70′s songs, this one by the Marshall Tucker Band entitled “Heard it in a Love Song” The song opens with:

“I ain’t never been with a woman long enough
for my boots to get old
But we been together so long now
they both need resoled.
If I ever settled down, woman you be my kind
So its a good time for me to head on down the line.”

I am not afraid of commitment. What scares the shit out of me was defined perfectly by Neil Strauss in The Game. “What scares me is the idea of fighting with the one I love over who’s turn it is to do the dishes. To slowly but surely become less attracted to the person I sleep next to every night. To slide down the ladder of position in my partners heart once we have children. That’s what scares me.”

Perfectly described…it is how I feel about the whole relationship thing. It is a tough thing for most people to understand, especially women. I have lots of male friends who are suffering from the same exact things I mention above, but yet don’t work to make their relationships better or extricate themselves from their misery and face being alone. I like being alone; I am on occassion lonely but I honestly believe that I am far better off dealing with this on occassion than I am waking up one day and finding myself with a woman who has become my roomate.

I want it all; I want to make lots of money, travel and see the world and make love to beautiful women in every country. I want to pick up on a moment’s notice and go flyfishing for a week at a time. I want to do what I want when I want, and because I am cognizant of this I am not married nor do I have kids. My life is about me, and as shallow as that sounds, at least I am not ruining someone else’s life in the process as I slowly come to terms with my true inner self.

My writing has stalled out lately as I search to find the place within that is the vortex within my life. I miss it; I miss the creative outpour and the satisfaction of a job well done. I miss creating something that is uniquely mine and no one else’s. I miss creating something unique and enviable. I personally believe myself to be more free than most people, and I also exercise that freedom more often than others.

Don’t get me wrong, it comes with a price. However, I do not consider waking up alone much of a price to pay. I am lucky to have a close circle of friends that help fulfill my need for companionship, and as for sex, well……you’ve read the book, haven’t you?

For those of you who know who she is, you may agree like I do that her show is the perfect fit for my book. In fact, what I had all planned out if the opportunity arose is that I would “step out of the shadows” for the first time on her show. I have not revealed my face in conjunction with this project to date, but thought this would be the perfect venue to do so. And thus the story begins…..

I started asking everyone in my wide circle of friends if they knew anyone who had connections to Comerica Theater, the venue at which The Chelsea Handler Comedy Tour was to appear on May 13th in Phoenix. I found it hard to believe, but I could not come up with a single person who could help with this. I tried contacting her management team, only to find that the information I did manage to scrounge up had changed recently. As the date drew near, I began to press really hard, thinking about it all the time, obsessing. I was this close to trying a wicca ceremony to try and bend the universe to my will.

Two days before the 13th a friend of mine calls me and asks me to stop by her office, that she has something for me. I have no cluse what she has in mind, but I go. I am pleasantly surprised to she is giving me a ticket to the Chelsea Handler show. “maybe you can make something happen there, but either way I believe in what you are doing and I want you to go.” I was stunned, and flattered. I thanked you profusely and vowed to give it my best shot.

The next day another friend of mine text messages me asking if I was aware that Chelsea was doing a book signing at Changing Hands Bookstore in Mesa. I had no clue, and was pissed that I missed Tucker Max when he was there also a while ago. It seems fate is not without a sense of irony. He says I need to call right away and get a place in line, they are expecting e huge turn out. So I do; I get out of line at the post office and call the bookstore. I pay $27.50 (bitch!) for a book of stories by Chelsea’s friends (that’s right, she didnt even write it…bitch!) but I guarantee a spot in line for tomorrow’s book signing.

I arrive an hour ahead of her scheduled arrival time, checking things out and trying to figure out how this all works. I flirt with the girl at the counter when I pick up my copy of the book, and she upgrades me to group G. “How many groups are there?” I ask her. She tells me right now there are 25 people per group,and that they expect to have groups all the way to S by the end of the day. Yikes. Is this what its like? Could I possibly draw this kind of attention and a crowd at a local bookstore some day? My ego smiled a huge smile. An announcement rings out overhead; “Chealsea’s plane was a little late, but she will be here soon”. A collective groan from the growing crowd can be heard throughout the store.

By three aclock everyone is growing restless and she finally arrives about 15 minutes later. The first three groups line up, and are paraded through a mazelike configuration through the store. I sit and wait my turn, hoping to somehow get a few minutes with her and/or her agent to discuss my idea. I have a copy of each of my books in hand; book 1 containing a letter explaining my idea in full with contact information at the bottom of it. I have been rehearshing my speech for the past hour, and when my groupis finally called my stomach knots up a little as the moment of truth has arrived. I am going to meet Chelsea Handler.

I am not the gushing fan of anyone; I have only ever asked for one authograph my whole life, and was for a totally different purpose. But I am nervous, as this could be a turning point in this whole thing if somehow this crazy idea works. I inch closer to the table, waiting in line like everyone else. Finally my turn; I take a deep breath and step forward. “Hi, I am an author and I wrote each of these books. If you like them, I have an idea I’d like to explore, my contact info is in this one” I say just like I rehearshed. She looks at them brief, scribbles her autograph into her book that I had purchased and slides it across the table at me. Her manager grabs the books and tosses them into a pile of other items people have brought her. And with that I am escorted away for the table…..

I was dejected to say the least. And a little pissed as to what had just occurred. Not being one to be deterred easily, I started asking around. I was trying to find out who her manager is, and if i could speak with her. The third Changing Hands employee I asked knew her name, but suggested I dont talk to her as she is “difficult”. Hmm, then I got an idea. I waited until everyone had gone through the line, and went through again. I was last in line and walked over to Amy, her manager. “I wrote those books, and I wanted to see if you had a business card so I can follow up with you” I said, pointing at them on the floor near the top of the pile. “I don’t have a business card” she says curtly, and turns to shuffle Chelsea off to the next destination. Strike two….

So a few hours later I arrive at Comerica Theater and stand in line to get in. It is already 8:00pm and I look at my seat number once I get inside. I realize that I am sitting very close to the stage, and suddenly it strikes me that I run the risk of being the butt of a bunch of jokes by the comedian on stage because I am walking in late. I look around and decide that sitting in the back in a section all by myself is preferable. I hate doing stuff like this by myself anyway, so I would feel more comfortable if I was hidden away from everyone anyway. I grab a seat in a section where I am literally by myself.

I must say, I am not impressed with any of the comedians in the show. I sit and listen, waiting for Chelsea to come on stage as I try to figure out how I am going to get backstage or something. She finally comes out on stage, and as she begins her routine one of the comedian and Amy, the manager come walking up to my section and sit down. I can’t believe my luck! I sit on the edge of my seat, trying to figure out how to approach them without seeming creepy or invasive. Amy leaves about thirty seconds after she arrives, but Heather remains. At one point she looks over my direction (probably because I was staring at her) and I catch her attention. I smile and walk over and sit in the row behind her. I introduce myself, and compliment her on her segment of the show. “Your Drew Berrymore impression is spot on” I tell her. She laughs a little and says thanks. I tell her what I am trying to accomplish with my book, and what transpired at the book store. She rattles off an email address for me, saying that I can reach Chelsea’s agent there. I thank her and return to my seat.

Holy crap, I did it! I am thinking to myself as I leave. I can’t believe the luck I had, and how fate seems to be pushing this to fruition. I drive home, excited that I may actually pull this off.

The next day I email the guy and to my surprise in ten minutes I hear back from him. His email reads “Thank you for your email. I only book comedians for the tour, and the venues in which they apear. I will forward your request on to Brad ______________, he is the guy you want to speak with regarding the show. Good luck!” Alright, now we are getting somewhere! I am closing in on the person I need to speak with, and the email will sort of be a warm hand off as well.

In ten minutes I hear back from Brad. “We are only booking top shelf celebrities for the show. Thank you for your inquiry.”

Son of a BITCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So close………………